 | Festus |  |
DEDICATION.
MY FATHER! unto thee to whom I oweAll that I am, all that I have and can;
Who madest me in thyself the sum of man
In all its generous aims and powers to know,
These first-fruits bring I; nor do thou forego
Marking when I the feat thus closed, began,
Which numbers now near three years from its plan,
Not twenty summers had embrowned my brow.
Life is at blood-heat every page doth prove.
Bear with it. Nature means Necessity.
If here be aught which thou canst love, it springs
Out of the hope that I may earn that love,
More unto me than immortality;
Or to have strung my harp with golden strings.
1839.
| Festus | |